Second Star to the Right
by Infinitys-End
Summary: This is the tale of the temple initiates shortly before the collapse and destruction of the Jedi Order. Slightly and increasingly AU. I upped the rating as a safety procaution - so far its still in the G range. It won't go over PG though,
1. A difficult decision

Authors' notes:  There is some influence from Peter Pan and the movie Hook.  This story starts out in canon and immediately deviates into AU, so if you don't like that sort of thing, DON'T READ.  Jenna Trilkana is my creation, don't anyone use her.

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            The council was silent, watching the young master before them.  Her dark hair shone in the lights reflected from the traffic surrounding the temple.  Her tanned face was quiet, her dark eyes closed in silent meditation.  The Force pulsed around her as she sought her path.  Finally, the tense set of her shoulders relaxed and she raised her head, looking the revered Master Yoda in the eyes.  

            "I accept this task.  The Force wills it." Jenna Trilkana murmured softly, her voice strangely sad.  Master Yoda nodded while a sense of relief spread through the room.

            "Thankful we are, Master Trilkana." The diminutive master rasped, speaking for the council.  "Leave immediately you shall, along with your charges.  Tell no one of your going.  If the Force wills, return you shall."  Jenna silently bowed, first to Yoda, then to the rest of the council.  

            "Force be with you, my master."  Jenna replied, then turned sharply on her heel and strode out of the room, never to return.

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	2. Engine troubles

Disclaimer:  This story is not for profit.  Star Wars and the accompanying universe are not mine, they are Lucas'.  A fact I bemoan daily.  Jenna is my idea.  Please ask permission before using her.  This disclaimer applies to any previous or future chapters.

Author's notes: Wow, reviews!  I'm so jazzed.  And before you ask, this is still the same story.  I'm trying something odd here, so please bear with me as I try to pull it all together.  As always, constructive criticism is welcomed, praise is desired, and evil flames will be ignored.  For reference, this chapter takes place during the _X-Wing_ series, a few months before _The Courtship of Princess Leia_.

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            "Try 'er again, Chewie!" a voice echoed through the bowels of the dilapidated ship.  An answering roar reverberated from the cockpit.  Slowly, the engine noise built to a deafening crescendo, accompanied by a triumphant shout.  A shout cut short as the engines abruptly shut down, clanking and hissing.  The overhead lights flickered and dimmed as the captain of this tattered ship cursed his engines soundly and imaginatively.  The _Millennium Falcon_, symbol of the Rebellion and personal craft of one General Han Solo, hung listlessly in space.  

            A tow-headed man dressed in black slumped into the captain's chair in the cockpit.  Idly he watched Chewbacca pull apart the circuit board above his head.  

            "Need any help there, Chewie?" Luke Skywalker asked, brushing sandy-blond hair off his face.  The ginger-furred Wookie looked down at the young Jedi, shook his head firmly, then returned to his work, muttering under his breath about certain starship captains who couldn't be bothered to run thorough system's checks on a regular basis.  Seeing that he was serving only as a distraction, Luke meandered out of the cockpit and into the forward hold.  A small, rotund droid hummed to itself happily in the corner as it ran system checks on the ship's systems that were still functioning.  He trilled shrilly at the passing knight. 

            "No Artoo, I don't think Han would want you to erase his holochess scores. Chewie might appreciate it though." Luke grinned.  Laughing to himself over what he imagined Han's response would be, he slipped through the doors at the other end of the room, heading towards the engine compartment. 

"Why did I come on this trip?" Luke asked himself as he negotiated the narrow passageways.  He knew the excuses he had made.  Han had invited him along on a little side trip to distract him from an increasingly frustrating search for the history of the lost Jedi Order.  Luke had seen and felt the worry in his friend.  To be honest, Luke was worried as well.  With minimal training and no solid background in tradition, he had a colossal task before him in rebuilding the order.  If his first mentor, the ancient Obi-Wan Kenobi, had failed to train even one knight, even with the full support of the order, how was he supposed to train legions?  Thus, this trip was supposed to be an exercise in truancy, an escape from the harsh realities of life for both men.  Han was momentarily escaping the burden of command, and Luke escaping the order placed upon him by his last master, Yoda.  Luke shook his head.  They were feasible excuses, but rather weak.  For some reason, he knew he had to be on the _Falcon_ when it lifted off.  For some reason, the Force was pulling him....

Deliberately, Luke stopped that train of thought before he could get lost in it.  This was supposed to be a vacation!  With a determined stride and an air of forced cheerfulness, he strode into the engine compartment.  

"Hey Han, got something that needs breaking?"


	3. A beginning

Disclaimer:  Star Wars and the accompanying universe belongs to that bearded wonder, George Lucas.  I'm just playing with them for a while.  Jenna, however, is my idea.  Please ask permission before using her.

Author's Notes: Words cannot express my gratitude towards my reviewers.   It is nice to know someone reads this besides my pet hamster.  As always, praise is adored, constructive criticism is fervently welcomed, and evil flames will be ignored.  For reference, this chapter is set during the time of the Old Republic, shortly before the fall of the Jedi Order.

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            Master Jenna Trilkana quickly ran pre-flight checks on her designated freighter, trying not to stare out the front veiwport at the Jedi Temple.  As an initiate, she had daydreamed about leaving the temple far behind as she single-handedly saved the galaxy.  As a padawan, she had rarely seen the temple, as her master preferred less populous planets.  They had only returned when directly ordered to by the council.  Her visits had become even less frequent after she was knighted.  Only during her time as a master had she learned to appreciate the temple's calm serenity and seeming eternal endurance.  

            Now she faced the prospect of leaving this home behind forever.  _There is no emotion, there is peace_.  Taking a moment to center herself, she leaned back into her captain's chair and closed her eyes, focusing on the Living Force around her.  Distantly she could sense the teeming life that animated the city world of Coruscant.  Closer, and part of her direct concern, were the Force-signatures that occupied her freighter's hold.  A voice crackled over the ship's communication array, interrupting her thoughts.

            "Coruscant Central to Corellian Freighter _Starhawk_, what is your status, over?"   Jenna reached across the control board and flicked open her end of the channel.  Firmly affixing her headset, she finished the last of the pre-flight checks.  Everything came up green.

            "_Starhawk_ to Coruscant Central, my board is green and I'm good to go, over."  She reported calmly, her hands dancing over the controls, starting up the repulsorlifts and checking the internal dampeners one more time.  

            "Coruscant Central to _Starhawk_, you are cleared for liftoff.  Please follow pre-designated flight path until clear of the planet's atmosphere, over."

            "_Starhawk_ to Coruscant Central, roger, willco, and out."  Jenna shut down the channel and concentrated on bringing her ship into a smooth ascent out of the planet's atmosphere.  She could hear excited cries behind her as the ship leapt gracefully into the night sky, screaming towards open space.  She left the busy planet behind without any problems, and set a course into hyperspace.  This would be the first of many jumps, all designed to throw off any pursuers.  She was not sure if she imagined it, but she believed she could hear a familiar rasping mind-voice whispering as she engaged the hyperspace engines.

            "With you the Force shall be, young Trilkana."

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            With the ship set on auto-pilot, Jenna untied her flight harness and made her way aft.  She paused before opening the hatch to the main hold.  When she walked through that portal, her mission would truly begin.  With a deep steadying breath and a mental prayer, she palmed open the hatch.  A group of fifteen jedi initiates looked up from their various entertainments.  

            "Greetings.  I am Master Jenna Trilkana.  I am to be your guardian, and in time, your master.  Welcome our new home, the _Starhawk_."


	4. Jedi troubles

Disclaimer:  George Lucas owns the entire SW universe.  However, Jenna is my own... my precious...

Author's Notes:  Please keep reviewing.  It makes me very happy, and keeping authors happy is always a good thing.  I'm gonna do the time switch thing again, so hang on to your hats folks!

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            "Hey Luke, toss me that hydrospanner, won't ya?" A grimy hand reached up out of the engine pit and groped around the edge.  After waiting a few minutes, an equally grimy face followed the hand. 

 "Hey, kid!" Han called, looking around the darkened compartment.  "Didn't think I was workin' him that hard." The starship captain muttered as he hauled himself out of the greasy pit.  Stumbling slightly on cramped muscles, he made his way over to the intercom.  

            "Chewie!  You there?" Han called up to the cockpit.  An answering roar echoed down the line. "Could you tell Luke to come back down here, I could use a hand."  Han reached up to turn off the com when Chewbacca answered, his tone concerned.  Han frowned at the com unit. 

"What do you mean he's not with you?  He's certainly not here!"  Han waved his hand around, gesturing uselessly at the empty compartment.  The wookie answered with a frustrated growl.  

"Hey, this is not my fault!  So don't you growl at me you oversized furball!"  The reply was short, loud, and definitely to the point.  Han leaned back against the bulkhead, sighing with frustration.

"Hey, no need to get your fur in a knot.  Just... just look for him, okay?"  Han was worried now.  It was unlike Luke to simply leave in the middle of a project.  That farmboy mentality of his wouldn't let him.  Chewie grunted an affirmative and turned off the com system.  Han grabbed a rag and began wiping the grease off his hands.  There was no sense in getting the rest of the ship filthy just because his assistant wandered off.

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            "Luke?  Hey, kid, where are you?"  Han called, ducking his head into the rear hold.  A quick scan only showed Luke's X-wing.  Han grimaced.  It had taken some fancy flying to get that thing in there, and he wasn't relishing the thought of getting it back out.  The Corellian shook his head.  Luke had begged for hours to bring his snubfighter along.  Not that he would need such a thing, the _Falcon_ could handle herself in a fight, thank you very much.  Plus, there weren't going to be any fights anyway.  This was a vacation!  Turning his back, he headed out of the holding bay.  Checking every hatch, Han made his way forward towards the crew cabins.  He frowned as he walked.  He would have to re-check that main light circuit, those sith-spawned overhead lights were dimming again.  He hit the light panel for the small medical compartment.  

            "Luke?"  Han called out.  He turned back toward the hatch and was about to leave when a soft moan erupted behind him.  

            "Luke!"  The young jedi was collapsed in a corner, eyes shut, his face passive and emotionless.  "C'mon Luke, snap out of it!"  Han growled, and lightly slapped his friend's face.  Luke did not respond.  Chewie, hearing Han's cries, appeared in the hatchway.  

            "Chewie!  Help me get him on the bunk, he's in some kind of trance or something." Han ordered, trying to raise his friend off the ground.  Chewie gently pushed the starship captain aside and lifted the young knight as if he were a child.  The hairy giant laid Luke out on the bunk and began activating the medical equipment.  Han glanced up at the readout.  

            "This stuff is worthless!  Everything normal it says!   Let me tell you something pal, this ain't normal!"  Han growled menacingly at the offending panel.  Before Chewie could calm his captain down, Luke began to mumble softly.

            "Yoda...  no, don't go..."  Han looked at Chewie in bewilderment.  Chewie looked back at Han, equally confused.   Han hissed at Chewie, "I thought that Yoda guy was dead?"  Chewie just shrugged.

            "Children... where are the...  no, no, don't..." Luke began to twitch, fighting something in his hallucinations.  Han tried to hold his friend down, worried that he might knock his head against something and cause worse damage.  He fervently wished Leia was here, she had proven to be an excellent field medic if pressed.  He snorted.  He wished anyone with some medical training was here.  Force, he'd settle for old goldenrod.  Han knew his limited medical experience did not cover head trauma and brain damage.  He just had to hope that his friend would be able to find a way back himself.  He heard Chewie rummaging about in the storage locker above the bunk.  There was a short triumphant growl, and then Chewie reappeared holding a small syringe.  

            "Good idea Chewie, that demerol should keep him quiet for a while, let us figure out what to do about this."  Han agreed as Chewie quickly found a vein and injected the drug.  Luke's mumblings subsided into silence.

            "I've got a bad feeling about this." Han moaned.


	5. Bonderogs

Disclaimer:  Star Wars is not mine.  It will, unfortunately, never be mine.  I'm just playing here for a little while.  Jenna, however, is my idea, so please ask before using her.

Author's Notes:  I am also citing Chronicles of Narnia as inspiration.  Where this inspiration comes into play will be clear later, much later.  I apologize for the shortness of these chapters.  I try for long ones, but kinda run out of steam.  And steamless writing is a painful thing to read.  Suggestions, constructive criticism, and praise will be happily received; evil flames will be stuffed out the nearest airlock and spaced.

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            Jenna opened her eyes and sat up abruptly in the darkened cabin.  Light thrown by a nearby nebula illuminated the tiny compartment with an eerie purplish glow.  The soft hum of the ship's engines in stand-by mode filled the air.  The young master scanned the room, confused and disoriented.  What had awoken her?  Suddenly another wisp of fear curled through the Force, sending slight chills down her spine.  Jenna groaned.  

            "Not another nightmare!"  She mumbled as she pulled her robe off the hook on the door and jogged down the passage to the initiates' room.  Quietly she palmed open the door and slipped inside, making her way to a small bunk in the corner.  Under a light blue blanked, a small form was huddled, shivering and sobbing softly.  A quick scan of the room showed fourteen other bunks, all still and quiet except for the faint stir of breathing.  Jenna knelt by the frightened child and shook him softly.

            "Neesh, wake up, its alright." The weary master whispered to the bump on the bunk as she sent waves of calming Force.  Slowly the shivering and sobbing stopped, and a tiny Caamasi cub peeked out from under the blanket.  

            "Masa?"  The fuzzy purple-gold initiate lisped.  "Masa, we goin' home?  I wanna go home.  Bad fings heah."  His lower lip trembled and his big brown eyes filled with tears.  Jenna quickly swept the young boy into a tight hug.

            "We are home, my little firebug." Jenna soothed, calling the lad by his nickname.  Neesh was usually a perky child with a fire-bright grin.  However, none of the initiates seemed to be immune to the nightmares that plagued them since the group fled Coruscant three weeks ago.  Almost every night she made a special trip back to this room to quiet the fears of one of her charges.  

            "But Masa, the bonderog is gonna come in the airlock, an' he's gonna eat me!" Neesh argued back, thumping the covers with one little paw for emphasis.  Jenna had to bite back a grin.  

            "Neesh, I happen to know through years of jedi training that bonderogs don't eat initiates." Jenna stated calmly.  Neesh looked up at her with big eyes.  

            "Wot do they eat Masa?"  The Caamasi squeaked, his ears perked in interest.  Jenna set him back on his bunk and tucked him in gently.

"Alderaanian chocolate.  With jellybabies on the side." The master deadpanned, her face absolutely serious. 

"In fact, bonderogs make great company, and often host big parties."  Neesh's eyes shone with excitement as he imagined such a feast.  

"Thus, you have nothing to fear, firebug.  Back to sleep with you." Neesh nodded sleepily and with a quick wave of the Force, he was back in dreamland, feasting with his new friends the bonderogs.  Jenna rubbed her eyes.  Disaster averted, galaxy saved, once again.  With a weary sigh, she picked herself up off the floor and padded out of the room.  As she strolled down the hall, she realized she was now far to alert to go back to sleep.  Better go get some caf, it looks like it will be a long day.

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            Stifling a yawn with the back of one hand, Jenna Trilkana slapped on the light panel for the galley.  The ship's chronometer flashed blearily at her: 0430.  Banishing dark thoughts about the earliness of the hour, Jenna set about making the life-giving drink commonly called caf.  Once the preparations were complete, the dark-haired master slumped into a nearby chair.  This mission, if one could call it that, was wearing her down.  If she closed her eyes, she could still see the desperation in the eyes of the council that night three weeks ago.  She had just returned from a treaty negotiation on Agamar, and was still weary from the journey when she had received summons to the grand council chamber.  Jenna wearily shut her eyes, her mind replaying the conversation held that night.

            "New mission we have for you, Master Trilkana." Yoda had begun peremptorily, before she could even offer the ritual greetings to the council.  "Involves the initiates it does."  This had not gone over well with Jenna.  She was still mourning the loss of her first padawan, a young Twi'lek named Nig-ka Notril, who had died only a few months before.  The young master wanted nothing to do with the initiates.  It simply hurt too much.  Jenna said as much to the council, abandoning tact in favor of bluntness due to her weariness and the painfulness of the subject.  She knew matters were serious when the only reaction to her outburst was a slight flattening of Yoda and Yaddle's ears and momentary looks of censure from the rest of the council.  Under normal conditions, she would have gotten an hour-long lecture for such a blatant show of disrespect.  Jenna shook her head, bringing herself back to the present.  There were still things to do aboard ship before the children awoke, and she best get started while she still had a hope of finishing them.  If she hurried, she might be able to sneak in a few extra moments of meditation, Force knew she needed it.  If she had to clean up one more result from a Force-generated food fight, she might go completely and irreversibly mad.  Grabbing her mug of caf, she strode out the door, intent on her duties for the day.


	6. Muzac

Disclaimer:  Star Wars is not mine, and it probably never will be.  George Lucas owns everything.  I'm just playing for a bit, I promise to put everything back where I found it.

Author's Notes:  A great big thank you to people who reviewed my humble story!  I've never gotten reviews on a story before.  Second, sorry about the delay in posting, its been an... _interesting_ couple of days.  Enjoy the story!  And yes, I'm a huge fan of cliffhangers.  Excuse me while I wipe the evil smirk off my face...

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Han dropped his head into his hands and groaned.  Around him in the cockpit, the latest and greatest rock hit from Rodina played at quarter speed.  With a suddenness that was shocking, the music stopped and an immensely bored voice echoed over the sub-space connection. 

            "Coruscant Central, how may I direct your call?" the tinny voice drawled.  Han took a deep steadying breath and repeated his request for the tenth time in an hour.  

            "Look, I need to talk to Senator Organa.  My name's Han Solo, General Han Solo." Han enunciated clearly and slowly, trying desperately to keep the growing fury out of his voice.

            "I'm sorry," the emphatically unapologetic voice replied, "But Senators do not receive calls without prior notification and proper access numbers.  Will there be anything else?"  Han glared at the speakers, trying somehow to burn a hole straight back to that infuriating desk jockey.  His anger and frustration waged battle with the logical portion of his brain.

            "Well, you see, I would have the codes, but somehow they were deleted from the ship's computers."  Here he spared a glare for the small R2 unit standing in the hatchway, looking as contrite as a droid can possibly look.  While searching for a shortcut on fixing the engines, the little astromech managed to erase half of the communication codes stored in the _Falcon's _databanks.  

            "Right.  Sir, who is it that you really want to call?  There are other sentients waiting to be helped." The mechanical voice dripped annoyance that Han would take so much time out of his busy day.  At that, Logic took a good look at the battlefield in Han's mind and decided hiding underneath the bunk was a wise tactical decision.  Furious, Han did his best imitation of a Wookie and growled at his nemesis.

            "Now you listen here pal..."  Han was abruptly cut off by the latest and greatest by Figrin D'an and the Modal Nodes, played agonizingly slow.  Han snarled off a long string of curses, starting in Trandoshanian, and continuing from there until he ran into Rodian.  He couldn't believe it.  He had already tried calling the main fleet, but some wet-behind-the-ears communication officer had summarily cut him off when he failed to produce the authorization codes.  All he had asked was to be allowed to speak to _anyone_ in Rouge Squadron.  Wedge would have recognized him.  He was sure of it.  Next, he had tried to call Leia's private line, but for some reason, it would only play him some pre-recorded message - _I am sorry, I am away from my desk at this moment, if you will leave your name, com number, and a brief message, I will answer your call shortly_.  The only problem with this being the call was always terminated before he could leave a message.  After an hour of that, he was relegated to this sith hell known as Coruscant Central.  With one last long-suffering glare at the offending equipment, Han stood and huffed out of the cockpit, neatly dodging the apologetic Artoo in the process.  

            Han kept up a brisk pace until he neared the medical area.  The starship captain hated seeing his friend this way.  For as long as he knew him, Luke had always been vibrantly alive.  Han had suggested this crazy jaunt for the sole reason that his jedi friend seemed whipped by the massive task he had decided to shoulder.  Han shook his head.  Whatever had possessed the kid to try something so astronomically impossible?  While he acknowledged that the once green-as-grass farmboy was now a real, live, Jedi, that was no reason the kid should have to fly himself into the ground with full thrusters.  If only he didn't try to do everything himself!  Surely, Jedi accepted help once in a while!  Sighing, Han drug his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit he had for years.  Straightening his shoulders, he strolled into the cabin with his patented gunslinger gait.  

            Chewie looked up from his place by the bunk and grunted a greeting to Han.  Seeing that his captain wished to be alone, the giant wookie silently stole out of the room.  Han barely noticed, staring down at his incapacitated friend.  

            "Alright kid, time to end this." Han slumped into the seat his co-pilot had vacated.  Luke hated being called kid.  Maybe he would wake up to remind him of that.  

"Its been a day and a half.  I can't even raise a garbage scow now that droid of yours has Kessled the communications.  The hyperdrive's still on the fritz, I need your help with that, can't fix them by myself y'know."  Luke showed no signs of hearing Han's tirade.  He lay much as he had for the last couple of days, silent and still.  The medical equipment showed no sign of any abnormalities.  Of course, according to the equipment, Luke should be awake.  Han shook his head.  This wasn't working.  He itched to do something, anything to make this better.  What he wasn't telling Luke, what he didn't want to admit to himself, was that he was not going to be able to fix the engines this time.  One too many quick fixes had taken its toll, and now only a new hyperspace motivator drive would make the _Falcon_ truly spaceworthy again.

Han's thoughts were interrupted by two simultaneous events.  First, the _Falcon_ began to shake and shudder as if under heavy blaster fire.  Secondly, and considerably more traumatic to Han, the alarms in the medical equipment started to wail as Luke went deathly pale and stopped breathing.


	7. Discovery

Disclaimer:  Star Wars and its accompanying universe does not belong to me.  In fact, very few things belong to me.  This story is intended purely for non-profit entertainment, so please don't sue me.  Jenna is my idea, but her occupation and life is not.  George Lucas owns all.

Author's Notes:  Sorry it has been awhile since the last post.  Please, review so I know what needs fixing.  On with the story!

            Fifteen small bodies lie scattered about the main hold, which has been renovated into a kind of exercise area.  Jenna gingerly picked her way across the hold, infinitely cautious, unwilling to disturb the silence.  It had taken her two hours to get the small high-powered initiates to take a nap, and she desperately needed some peace and quiet.  On cat-quiet feet, she padded out of the room and down the hall towards the cockpit.  Most of the initiates were still in awe of the highly technological room, and gave it wide berth.  If by some random chance the children woke up early, she should be able to remain undisturbed here.  As she walked into the room she palmed shut the hatch, sealing herself in.  Releasing a weary sigh, she dropped to the metal deck, gracefully folding into a comfortable meditation position.  

            Slowly, she traveled back in her mind over the small trials and tragedies of the day, pausing momentarily at each to release the pent-up emotion over each into the Force.  Her breathing slows as she fell deeper into meditation, reaching out across the galaxy, searching for peace.  In this moment, the ship is quiet, and the young knight felt herself relax.  Jenna smiles.  At times like this, she can see the definite advantages to this mission.  They had been hiding in a backwater solar system for the last few days, allowing the children to marvel at the brilliant purple planet below, and the red giant star it lazily orbited.  A sudden pang of loneliness shot through her heart as she thought of Coruscant.  She had been ordered to refrain from calling the temple unless there was an emergency, and thus far, the flight had been calm.  Still, she missed her friends and mentors, and longed to be home.  Perhaps these thoughts were unworthy for a Jedi master, but she wearied of having only children as fellow conversationalists.  Oh for some adult conversation!  It had been several months since she had been able to talk about something other than the day-to-day troubles of the initiates, and that had been a short exchange of greetings with a passing cargo hauler.

            Suddenly, her meditation and mournful thoughts come to an abrupt halt as the _Starhawk_ shudders and bucks under her.  She scrambled to her feet, all of her senses on alert.  Mentally she can hear the terrified thoughts of the initiates.  Without slowing her movements as she mans the cockpit, she sends back a soothing wave of the Force, also ordering them to find their seats.  Her hands fly across the board as it comes to life.  The tiny cruiser continued to vibrate, and now she can discern the terrifying sound of laser bolts ramming the ship.  Finally, the scanners showed her what her ears had already identified: a small fighting ship of unknown origin.  It was sleek and deadly looking, armed to the teeth, and unfortunately intent on the _Starhawk's_ destruction.  Jenna thought furiously as she brings up shields and the engines, trying to move away from the attacking ship.  

"Why can't I sense them?" she worried, her searches through the Force revealing nothing.  She dialed up the hyperspace computer, laying in coordinates for a short jump.  There was no way she would be able to fight her attacker off, so a jump to hyperspace seems to be the only way out.  However, the computer needed time to make the calculations, so she punched the sub-light engines, hoping to put a bit of distance between herself and her pursuer.  Suddenly, the scanners blare an alarm.  

"Not another ship, please Force not another ship." She muttered under her breath as she checked to see what was causing the mechanical agitation.  When she finds the reason, a confused shadow crosses her face.  Almost directly in front of the ship, a large nebula had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.  As part of a science lesson, Jenna had taught the children how to run a scan of the solar system, and she did not remember any nebulas showing up.  Anyway, it was exerting a strong gravitational pull, which should have destroyed the solar system it inhabited long ago.  A strong pull which was quickly shifting the _Starhawk_ into its depths.  Desperate, the knight yanked on the steering yoke, trying to gain some advantage against the steady fall, but all efforts are in vain.  Jenna noticed the attacking ship floundering as well, and its engines burn dangerously bright as they attempt to pull away.  Her attention is brought back to her current plight as the internal sensors begin to wail, indicating immanent engine failure if she continues to run them at full throttle.  Forced to choose between certain death by engine implosion and theoretical death by whatever was in the nebula, Jenna reluctantly shut down the engines.  For a moment, all is silent, save the rattling of deck plates as the ship is drawn ever deeper into the glowing nebula.  Then, oddly, the soft whistling of atmosphere past the cockpit reaches her ears. 

The clouds part, revealing a world down below that is rapidly rising up to meet them.  Jenna re-engaged the engines and turned on the repulsor lifts, hoping to prevent a crash.  Her heart falls to her knees as the landing gear, including the repulsor lifts, stays stubbornly off-line and the engines respond weakly, damaged in the firefight.  Maneuvering with the unsteady engines only, she aims for a large field filled with soft-looking yellow grass, which gradually fills the view screen.  The knight reaches over to the comm system.  

"Everyone, brace for impact, we will be making planetfall in the next few minutes." She orders, and shuts off the communication line.  Following her own advise, she straps herself in to the captain's chair, still steering.  Mentally she counts backwards as the ground rushes toward her.

"Ten more kilometers.  Five, four, three, two…." There is a loud rending crash, then silence.


	8. Panic

Disclaimer:  I still don't own Star Wars.  I don't own much of anything, really.  George Lucas, mastermind that he once was, owns Star Wars.  I own a hamster.  Jenna is my idea, but I don't own her world.  I think we've been over this…

Author's Notes:  Yes, chap. 7 is a bit messed up; I'll fix it as soon as I get up the courage to find the old files.  Please read and review, reviews give me the enthusiasm to post more.  J

"Luke!" 

Han's voice was truly panicked, and the tone was echoed in the anguish on the Correllian's face.  A roar, almost lost over the crashes reverberating throughout the ship, managed to work its way past the haze of horror in Han's mind.  Chewie, his long time co-pilot, needed help.  Someone was attacking his precious ship, and it was his duty as captain to send that piece of Hutt slime crying to whatever crevasse it managed to ooze out from.  Han sent a frantic look back at the pale young man, his dark brown eyes terrified.  Luke, one of his best friends in the galaxy, needed his help too.  The kid had managed to become an integral part of the cocky pilot's life; they had simply been through too much together to abandon him now.  Han slapped a palm against the blinking comm panel and shouted at his hairy co-pilot while he snatched up a waiting medkit.  As he quickly rummaged about for the necessary drugs to revive his friend, Han began demanding answers.  

            "What's going on Chewie?" Han demanded as, after a failed search, he viciously threw the medkit to the metal floor and began sifting through the footlocker at the end of the bunk.  Half of the Wookie's answering tirade was drowned out by blaring alarms or the clatter of violently thrown objects as Han's search became more desperate.  The overhead light panels began to flicker again, a staccato punctuation to the drawn-out answer.  Finally the sandy-haired man lost patience and he slapped his palm against the bio-bed's sensors, cutting off the alarms.  With the sudden relative silence, Han could make out more of his partner's rant.  What he did hear, however, made no sense.  Something about being pulled against their will, something big and… blue?  That gave Han pause.  Since when did anyone paint their ships blue?  The Correllian shook his head, deciding that must have heard wrong. 

            "Why don't we ever have alprodimine?" Han snarled rhetorically, and then answered his frantic partner.  "I can't come up, the kid needs help.  Look."  Han raked his hair back again, trying to keep his tenuous hold on sanity.   "Just keep us steady for a few more minutes, okay?" he snapped irritably, abruptly ending the conversation with a sealed carton of bandages thrown at the comm. panel.  Why was it, whenever they got into trouble, it was never just a little trouble, like normal people, who led nice, normal lives.  Maybe they get a blown fuse, or someone gets a horrible case of the hiccups.  No, not them, that sort of thing doesn't happen to the heroes of the high-faultin' Rebel Alliance.  No, they had to have a dying Jedi, a motivator shot straight to Kessel, and some hotshot pilot painting their shields.  Han took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.  Without the needed drugs, this whole rescue operation was going to be a lot more difficult.  As Han ran over the few lessons in resuscitation he had received, a long, drawn-out howl echoed through the ship.  

            The rattling, jerking motion suddenly ceased, and an eerie silence stole over the ship.  A fraction of a second later, a scream broke that silence.

            "Luke!  Kid, calm down, it's alright!"  Han had to shout to make his voice be heard over the confused babble streaming from the young man's lips.  The older pilot desperately wanted to be in two places at once:  One him could stay here and straighten the kid out, and the other him could find out what was going on in the cockpit.  His over-active imagination had already come up with several unpleasant possibilities for the sudden calm.  Perhaps they were caught in a tractor beam; Chewie would have to shut down the sublight engines to prevent blowing them out.  Another option was the attacking ship, whoever they were, was just sitting there, savoring their victory.   Just the kind of thing Warlord Zinji's troops would do, or some upper-crusty Imperial Moff with too few victories under his belt.  Or maybe…

            Han shook his head, trying to clear away the oppressive mood.  Maybe, just maybe, his partner managed to fight everyone off, and they were safe now.   The ever-cocky pilot allowed himself a lop-sided grin at that.  Yeah, and goldenrod would blow a fuse calculating the odds on that one.  

            The overhead light panels were still flickering, casting an oppressive pall over the compartment.  Han watched his friend as Luke slowly began to calm, his ice-blue eyes still focused somewhere in the middle distance, not taking in anything, but staring at something the Jedi alone could see.  His stream of panicked garble slowed to a few mumbled words punctuated by the sharp intake of breath, as if the kid kept forgetting that breathing was a necessary part of life.  Han resisted the urge to shake the younger man, to demand an answer for the scare he had been given.  Instead he leaned back to rest his head against the heavy metal bulkhead, wearily shut his eyes, and listened to the sounds of his friend coming back to reality.  At least one thing was going his way today.  Han had to repress a shudder at the thought of losing another friend, especially one so young.  He was about to work up the energy to ask for an explanation when a musing rumble interrupted his thoughts.  

            "Chewie!" Han practically shouted, bolting to his feet, all weariness forgotten.  "What's going on?  Why aren't you flying this hunk of junk?  Why aren't we under attack?"  Chewie began to answer, but Han's quicksilver mind was already on to the next topic.  

"Is the ship badly damaged?"  Han shot a worried look at his towering co-pilot.  "They didn't scratch the paint, now did they?"  He managed to dredge up one of his famous lop-sided grins, trying to tamp down the rising anxiety he felt.  Again the ginger-furred Wookie began an explanation.

"Wait, we need to get some answers out of Luke, he's probably starving, he has been out of it for a while.  Why don't you go get him some food, I think there's something edible in the mess."  Han ordered as he turned back to the still-silent Jedi, concerned about the pallor of his friend's face and the dark circles decorating his eyes.  Chewie simply leaned against the door frame, glaring at his captain in exasperation.  Not hearing any movement behind him, Han whirled back around and returned the glare.  

"Well?  What are you waiting for, a royal decree?  Move it!" Han growled, his brown eyes flashing.  Chewie shrugged eloquently and turned to leave.  Before he could quite get out the door, he was stopped again.

"Wait, where did you say we were?"  Han questioned, unable to remember the answer to that question.  Chewie slowly turned around again and stared at his captain, daring him to speak.  When no orders were given, the now rather cross Wookie calmly explained to Han that they had landed, they were no more damaged then they had been before this whole mishap, and he would now go prepare food.  If that was alright with the captain, of course.  Han frowned.  

"Landed?  Landed where, we are in the middle of the most desolate piece of space available!" Han snapped as his temper began to rise again.  Why was it no one could give him a straight answer?  Chewbacca sighed and tried to think about something besides wringing the temperamental human's throat.  Speaking very slowly so his companion would not miss the whole point of his explanation a third time, Chewie explained that they had been caught in the gravitational pull of a nebula, and there had been a planet inside, which they had landed on.  Han considered this explanation.  

"So no one was shooting at us?  And we're okay?" Han asked, credulous.  Could it be they had actually gotten lucky for a change?  Chewie nodded, opting for the short answer.  Short answers seemed to get through to the human when he was stressed.  When no more questions came, the Wookie left the compartment, muttering under his breath about captains who seriously needed medication for their massive mood swings.  Han resumed his seat on the floor and gazed up at Luke, who dazedly peered back at him.  Han's head reeled, he was still trying to process the fact that they were all still alive, breathing, and for the moment, safe.  Luke broke the silence first.

"Han, I have a bad feeling about this." The young Jedi stated shakily, still trying to regulate his breathing.  Han shut his eyes and groaned.    

"You know kid, you just might be right."


End file.
